


Professor Snape, Biology Teacher?

by PinkCripps



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack, Fluff, Gen, General Shenanigans, One-Sided Attraction, Post-War, Severus Snape Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-08 01:03:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21227222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkCripps/pseuds/PinkCripps
Summary: The War is over, and while the Wizarding World lost 1 Spy and Potions Master extraordinaire, muggle America gained 1 dark-haired, snarky, middle school teacher.Then Harry Potter and his friends decide to come and say hi.





	1. A girl writes about her crush, and the golden trio fight about mission impossible

**Author's Note:**

> Do enjoy this silly little fic idea I had heh

Set scene: Middletown Middle School, lunch hour. Amid the usual chaos of eating (mixing strawberry milk and potato chips), talking (shouting), and general 13-year-old shenanigans, there sat a dark-haired figure hunched over at the end of a table. She was preoccupied with a notebook, seemingly in her own little world. Her sparkly purple pencil danced frantically over the pages.

Dear Diary,  
The first day back from spring hols is already terrible! Mrs. Anderson just assigned us a ton of math hw about functions or something which are probs really useless, and then in english I have to write a essay on what I did over the hols. But like I did pretty much nothing so what am I supposed to write now??? I can’t even eat lunch now cuz of all the stress.  
But also since I can’t stop worrying about Mr. Prince’s ❤️ class. Ugh, easter break did not break my crush on him! It sucks h  
  
---  
  
“Hey Rhema, do you—“

I slam my diary shut. “Ah! Nicole! You scared me!”

“Oh, sorry!” Nicole apologized. Then she gave me a thoughtful look. “Er...were you writing about Mr. Prince again?” she asked, tugging on the ends of her sleeves.

I stuffed my diary in the deepest pocket of my backpack. “If I were, why would I tell you? You’d just lecture me about it, and I already get enough lecturing from my parents, thank you very much.”

As I hurried away, Nicole ran a bit to catch up to me. “Hey, don’t you storm off on me! You know I lecture you only because I’m your friend!”

I huffed. “I don’t see why you have to have to make such a big deal about it. It’s-it’s just a stupid schoolgirl crush. It’s not like I’m hitting on your boyfriend.”

“But it’s still Mr. Prince! Don’t you remember agreeing he was the meanest teacher to exist ever?” Nicole paused. “You used to like nice guys, Rhema. What happened to Jacob?”

I laughed, amusement suddenly winning over annoyance with my friend. “I liked Jacob in 6th grade, silly. We’re in 8th grade now; I’m way over him. So don’t even think of setting us up, you,” I said in a mock warning.

“I guess some things aren’t meant to be,” she lamented dramatically. “I still don’t understand why you like Mr. Prince though.”

“Who can understand all the mysteries of the heart?” I said loftily. “I definitely don’t.”

We giggled as we entered the classroom, earning us an scary look from Mr. Prince. Mr. Prince had the unique ability to make a room full of middle schoolers sound like a funeral progression. So we quickly quieted down—in front of him, at least. As soon as he looked back down at his desk, we continued our conversation, hoping the noise from the hallway would cover our talking.

“I mean, not to be mean, but he’s not even that, er, attractive,” whispered Nicole as we sat down. “he’s kinda got a big nose, and his hair...”

“Is gorgeous,” I sighed. “It looks so fine and soft and dark, though not as dark as his eyes. Oh, I could look at—“

“Miss Thomas,” rung Mr. Prince’s voice, paralyzing me with panic. “There will be no chattering in my classroom. See me after class.”

I stared wide-eyed at him, then peered at Nicole, who looked at me worriedly. I knew we were thinking the same thing; he heard me talking, but did he hear what I was talking about?

Thankfully, the bell rung, distracting me from my dilemma as class started.

* * *

“Harry, really! The _Mission: Impossible_ theme wasn’t even funny the first time!”

“Er, I thought it was funny, ‘Mione.”

“And since when did you know about _Mission: Impossible_, Ron?

The redhead threw a cheeky grin at his wife, whose eyes were sparkling with mirth despite her furrowed brows and tightly-pressed lips. “Harry took me to see it at that moving theater, remember? Or is that big brain of yours finally broken?”

“It’s movie theater, you blockhead, and my brain is perfectly fine!”

Harry Potter, who was in continual disbelief that his best friends had managed to stay together for more than 4 days, much less get married, stifled a sigh as he hissed, “Hey, I’ll stop humming if it mean you two will keep your marital problems to yourselves.”

Hermione and Ron simultaneously turned their heads toward the-boy-who-lived-twice, argument forgotten.

“Mate,” Ron said, bemused, “you do remember that we like fighting, right?”

“Oh, whatever,” replied Harry. He could still not wrap his head around the idea of liking chaos and conflict. “You guys need to stay quiet anyway. We’re on a stealth mission, remember?”

“Oh really? Then why were you humming the Mission: Impossible theme?” retorted Hermione. 

“She’s got a point, you know,” agreed Ron readily.

“You guys are the ones who are impossible,” muttered Harry, not bothering to hide the huge smile on his face. It was just like old times; the three of them, sneaking around, trying to solve some mystery. The only difference was their lives weren’t at stake, but Harry was very much fine with that 

The Auror office had gotten a lead that Snape was spotted here, at Middletown middle school in the middle of nowhere middle America. However, there were a multitude of other similar reported Snape sightings which turned out to be false leads. The Wizarding World’s eagerness to find the dead man was most likely caused by the fact Snape’s body was never found, as well as the general intrigue Snape generated. People do forget, though, and the number of reported sightings did eventually go down over the years. In fact, seeing the Middletown lead had surprised Harry a bit.

Intellectually, Harry knew this one wasn’t any more likely to be true than the others. However, he simply couldn’t put it out of his mind. Maybe the pull was just caused by the fact he so desperately sought closure to the war, to his parents, and to Severus Snape himself. But on the other hand, Harry was told he had excellent instincts. 

The three of them slinked around the perimeter of the middle school, Harry in his invisibility cloak and Ron and Hermione under a disillusionment spell. At 25, the three of them were a little to big to all fit under one cloak. (They, uh, had tried.) 

“How likely do you reckon it is that he’s actually here?” Harry said conversationally as he glanced inside a window. Nope, no Snape.

Ron snorted “Knowing how much the git (Harry glared)—I mean Snape—enjoyed teaching us, I’d be surprised if he came within 100 kilometers of this place.”

“Heh, yeah, agreed. What do you think, ‘Mione?” No reply. “Hermione?” 

Harry turned around, and was surprised and slightly panicked to see Hermione was no longer under her disillusionment charm. Instead, she was standing still as ice, holding in front of her a long chain with a clock face or something similar-looking suspended at end: their magical-signature detector. 

She jolted her head back up, gaped at each of the boys, and said, “Ron, Harry, I think there might be a chance...Severus Snape is actually here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned for chapter 2! Coming, er, sometime soon?


	2. in which a girl finds out her crush is a criminal kinda (she's really confused)

I’m pretty sure I had sweat stains a mile in radius on my shirt, I was so nervous. I couldn’t focus on what Mr. Prince was teaching at all in class. That’s not to say I wasn’t focusing on Mr. Prince. No, quite to the contrary, I couldn’t stop thinking about him.

“Why did he ask me to stay after class?” I thought as my teacher continued drawling on about the mitochondria. “Why not just give me a detention for talking? Oh, that means he definitely heard me!”

Then again, maybe perhaps the school banning detentions was the reason he didn’t give me a one.

Unfortunately, this did not reassure me. Knowing Mr. Prince did hear my comments about him would be better than not knowing what he heard at all. At least with the former possibility, I can prepare for the inevitable embarrassment. This waiting is killing me; I can feel in my very bones that something big is about to happen.

I really wish Mr. Prince would allow a clock in here...

“Homework is on the board!” Mr. Prince’s voice suddenly cut through my thoughts. It appeared class was finally being dismissed. “And actually read your assigned pages this time. I am finding it increasingly hard to believe any of you are literate."

Ah, it seems Mr. Prince is acting normal enough. My mood suddenly brightened; if he’s acting the same, he couldn’t have possibly made out what I was saying. Nicole and I were whispering, after all. Maybe he even forgot about asking me to stay after class!

“Miss Thomas, don’t think I forgot about asking you to stay after class.”

Yeah. Okay. This is irrefutable evidence Mr. Prince can read minds. Magic is real, and I am in danger.

“Yes sir,” I mumbled, my good mood gone just as quickly it appeared. It was now replaced with apprehension.

My classmates one by one filtered out of the room. My friend gave me one last sympathetic look before closing the door behind her. It sounded like the sentencing to my death. I wondered if Nicole’s face would be the last friendly face I‘d ever see.

Not being able to delay any longer, I turned my head from the door to my teacher, who was gazing out the window with a contemplative look on his face. He then turned to me, saying, “Perhaps—“

But before he could even start the second word of his sentence, the window shattered open, and a tall man with flaming red hair jumped into the classroom, cape flowing out behind him magnificently. I simply stood there as glass flew everywhere in slow motion, like in a scene from an action movie. My mind casually noted it was a good thing Mr. Prince had turned away from the window and avoided getting glass in his eyes. My body, on the other hand, started to tremble.

“Don’t move!” The man shouted, pointing a stick at my teacher like it was some kind of wand. “You have three fully-trained Aurors after you!

Behind the stranger, I saw a man with glasses and a woman climb through the window after him. They were dressed just as strangely as the redhead, whom they seemed to be very annoyed with.

“Ron!” exclaimed the woman. “That was completely uncalled for!” Nevertheless, she followed her companion in pointing a stick at my teacher.

“Ron” kept his eyes on Mr. Prince, but sheepishly said back to the woman. “I—he saw us Hermione, I didn’t want him to get away.” Get away? Huh. So I guess my teacher is a criminal now. Cool.

“You didn’t have to shatter the glass! That was a bit dramatic, mate.” The one in glasses took out another stick of his own, waving it at the ground.

And all the glass disappeared. The glass. Disappeared. _By_ _itself_.

I didn’t know it was possible for my limbs to feel weaker. Magic _is _real, and I _am_ in danger. 

I was confused about everything but one thing: the adrenaline coursing through my veins yelling at me one thing: to get out of here. I took a shaky step back towards the door.

The woman jolted her head my way, noticing me for the first time. I wanted to curse very badly.

“Oh! And there’s a little girl in here!” I would have fumed at being called a little girl if I weren’t so focused on considering whether I should try to bolt for the door. “You were lucky she was wearing glasses, Ron, or you could have poked her eye out!”

I bolted.

“Argh, no—oh, _Stupefy_!”

I saw a bright red light shoot at me before the world went dark.

* * *

Glancing to the left, Harry saw Hermione looking down at the girl laying on the floor, whose black hair was fanned out around her dramatically.

There wasn’t a bloody thing about today that wasn’t dramatic.

Harry’s eyes bore into the man in front of him. Who was he, and why was he masquerading as Severus Snape? Even though Harry was desperate to find the man alive, he was still cautious of letting himself believe—to hope that—

“I assure you, Mr. Potter, that I am not an imposter.”

Harry shoved his occlumency shields up, hoping the others would have the good sense to do the same. He, Ron, and Hermione had all taught themselves occlumency to some extent. Harry was happily surprised to find he was actually quite good at it, and he prided himself on the fact that it was one of the few things he was better than Hermione at.

Moodily reminiscing on how Snape’s horrible occlumency lessons could have gone so much better, Harry barked, “Oh yeah? Then prove that you’re really Snape. What potion did we work on the most during remedial potions lessons my fifth year?”

Snape’s—the man’s eyes gleamed, and Harry tightened the grip on his wand. Although the man appeared calm, Harry noticed how his right hand was placed a little too casually close to his pocket.

“You only studied one thing during remedial potions: occlumency.”

Harry slightly lowered his wand, but still wasn’t completely convinced despite the correct answer.

Snape continued however: “I do believe there was one embarrassing memory in the library during—”

Harry hurriedly spoke over him, saying loudly, “Okay! Okay! I believe it’s you! Wow, you really haven't changed.”

Snape smirked, but it turned quickly to a look of disdain as he glanced pointedly at the instruments still aimed at him. “And lower your wands. I’m not about to run away when I wanted to be found in the first place.”

That statement almost had the trio dropping their wands in surprise. It wasn’t a stroke of luck they had finally located Snape? After all those years of searching and finding nothing, the man one day simply decides to reveal himself?

Ron broke the silence first: “Blimey! You’re a maniac, you know that, Snape?”

“Ron!” Hermione chided. That’s not to say she didn’t agree with Ron.

“Well, if he wanted to be found, why not just turn himself in? Why make us get all paranoid”—(“only you, Ron!”)—“about him attacking or leaving as soon as we found him?”

Harry cut Hermione off before she could start on another tirade. Looking thoughtfully at Snape, he asked, “with all due respect, sir, why did you not simply, say, firecall us? You must know by now you’re no longer a criminal in the Wizarding World. So why reveal yourself in such a peculiar way?”

Then, Harry witnessed something so bizarre, so astonishing, so absolutely inconceivable that he had never even entertained thought of it happening.

Severus Snape looked bashful. He actually blushed! It looked horrid and blotchy on his pallid skin, and it didn’t help his sudden childlikeness. Ugh, Snape and a cute child were two things he should not have to compare to each other.

“I, ah, it was on a whim. Taking that walk. That is, where I knew a wizard would see me. It was silly, I know.” His head turned to gaze back out the broken window. “I believe I wished to leave it to chance.”

There was stillness a moment longer before Snape snapped his head back to Harry and drawled, “And it appears you have found me, breaking a window and traumatizing one of my students in the process. I should have known better than to to trust fate.”

Harry saw the sarcasm for what it really was. It was either much easier to read people as an adult, or Snape the consummate spy has lost his edge. However, Harry was reluctant to call him our for trying to hiding his vulnerability.

“Don’t act like you didn’t traumatize her already with your teaching,” Harry scoffed, graciously going along with the banter. As he grew up, Harry realized the importance of tactfulness.

“We should actually obliviate said traumatized student,” Ron cut in, looking at the clock. “There’s only five minutes between classes, right?”

Hermione made a small noise of surprise. She knelt down to the girl and picked her up. “I’ll rennervate her. Harry, if you would do the memory erasing?”

“Sure,” he agreed.

Hermione pointed her wand at the girl and woke her up, and Harry did the same, ready to obliviate her. The girl’s eyes opened. The spell was on the tip of his tongue. _Ob—_

“Wait!” the girl cried out, and for some unknown reason, Harry listened.

She quickly shuffled her eyes through each person in the room, lingering on Snape. She looked back at Harry, whose wand was still pointed at her, and asked in a remarkably steady voice, “Is magic real, then?”

“Yes,” Snape answered from behind him. “And before you ask, Miss Thomas, yes, I am a wizard.”

“O-oh. But I’ve never heard...you guys are secret, aren’t you?” Suddenly, her eyes widened and she sprung out of the chair. “And you’re going to kill me for knowing! I won’t tell anyone! Promise! I don’t wanna die!”

Ron snickered in his corner.

“Calm down, child! Have you already forgotten we are magic? We’re simply going to perform a memory charm on you. To make you forget,” explained Snape.

That got the girl’s—Miss Thomas’s—attention. “A memory charm? And...I’ll forget everything that’s happened?”

“That’s right,” confirmed Hermione. “And don’t worry, it’s completely safe; it won’t affect your mind or other memories.”

But everyone stopped listening as, in the middle of Hermione sentence, the girl ran up to Snape, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him full on the mouth.

She got a good half-second of lip-to-lip contact before the surly, dark-haired man pushed her off.

“Okay! I’m ready to lose my memory!”

“Potter don't you dare—“

“Obliviate!” Harry yelled, silently chuckling.

* * *

I opened open my eyes and blinked before looking around the empty classroom. Weird, my mind must have wandered for a second.

I looked to Mr. Prince, who had his hand over his eyes. “Sir—“

“No more talking in my class, Thomas,” he said sternly. “Just, get out now.”

I didn’t move, but then my teacher whipped his hand off his face and glared at me, and that was all it took to get me running. I rushed through the crowded hallway, relived that Mr. Prince didn’t want to talk about anything else.

You know, I’m glad my earlier feeling that something big was going to happen today was completely wrong.

* * *

Severus Snape internally sighed as he watched his student scramble out the door. He had meant to confront the girl on her inappropriate crush, but he had no idea the extent of her infatuation. (Kissing him! Ridiculous—) He decided he would have to attempt to make her cry next class. He dearly hoped that worked.

His thoughts soon turned to Potter. Severus had agreed to meet with him in a few days to discuss the best way to reintroduce himself into wizarding society. Severus could admit to himself, secretly, that the boy had grown up well. Almost into someone he could be proud of...

Severus shook his head and instead decided to think about his imminent re-entrance into magical society. He hated that he felt nervous and apprehensive about it. He knew he was technically acquitted, but how would people receive him, Dumbledore’s murderer and bully teacher, after all these years? Would they hate him, or worse yet, romanticize him as the man who lived his life for his one true love? Severus felt the urge to shudder.

He looked out of the now-fixed window the Golden Trio had exited from. They had changed a lot, but much had stayed the same as well..

Much changed, and much stayed same.

Some people would probably romanticize him now, and others still hate him.

Much changed, and much stayed same.

And suddenly Severus realized he could be okay with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thanks for reading my little story! =3  
I spent a week longer on this chapter than I thought I would, and I'm still not satisfied with it. I feel I tried to do too much in too few words. So tell me if you felt the story went a little all over the place, or if you feel it's perfectly fine. Or really just say whatever you want to say. =P


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